


A Million Vermillion Roses

by rullett



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Actors, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Artists, Character Death, Heavy Angst, M/M, Male Slash, Romance, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Tragedy, Tragic Romance, Unrequited, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-16 13:57:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16955352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rullett/pseuds/rullett
Summary: Edd is a hopeless artist, living with his best friend, and following a blind dream. A dream in which a handsome actor loves him back.





	1. 《 PROLOGUE 》

• • •

The painter splashes color onto the canvas. Its all in one spectacular gamma, the colors blended perfectly and all carefully chosen to correspond with one another. Then a flick of his paintbrush. The sienna water droplets splash on his cheeks, giving him artificial freckles.

“Edd, come on! It’s time for tea!”

He pretends not to hear the voice. He continues, and each stroke that the canvas bears has a meaning - a purpose. Each of them has their own planning, each of them has been sketched and chosen so delicately to-

“ _Edd_!”

The painter puts down the brushes onto his stool and sighs, glancing at the masterpiece. He claps his colorful palms together and gives his nose a scratch, dirtying that, too.

• • •

“So? What’s the theme today?” Edd’s best friend asks, stirring the sugar in his teacup.

“Oh, just practicing some abstract expressionism, Tom,” the painter lies.

Tom stops his movement and his posture hardens, as well as his eyes.

“You’re painting _him_ again, aren’t you?” Tom prompts, voice slightly muffled through his murmuring.

Edd sighs nods slowly, thinking it’s useless to thread the lie further.

Tom exhales sharply and places his teaspoon back down on the table.

“You ought to stop, Edd. He’s just a singer.”

Not just a singer, Edd thinks. The best singer. The deepest, most inspiring singer he’d ever seen. Edd was fascinated by the depth of his songs and the manner of speech.

“But he’s so inspiring!” Edd refuses to agree with Tom.

“Hear me out, Edd, no singer of his kind ever brought good to this world. He’s just tryin’ to brainwash you and turn you into ro-“

“Yes, yes, I get it, Tom,” Edd waves him away and turns back to his tea.

• • •

“Edd? You a’ight?”

Edd turns as Tom enters his room. He has a picture of his favorite singer in his hands. He was learning all his features so he could draw him identically to the photograph.

“Yes.”

“Yea? Well, once you’re finished drooling over that photo of Matthew Crowne, let me know. I wanna go out.”

And with that, Tom closes the door.

Edd sighs and throws the photo away.

• • •

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first fic!  
> The prologue is pretty short, just to introduce you slightly to the main setting.  
> I hope this isn’t too bad, and that you’ll enjoy reading this!


	2. 《 ONE 》

• • •

“This is a very generous price, thank you, sir,” a woman says, paying Edd.

The painter takes the money and sighs as he watches the woman take his new, unopened set of paintbrushes and leave. He cracks his knuckles and bites his bottom lip, nervous as he watches more and more people crowd around his little sale stand, picking out tools and paints and offering prices.

When everything is sold, Edd packs his things, breathes out a shiver, and turns to leave back home, head lowered.

• • •

 “But you said this was one of your favourite works!”

”I know, Tord,” Edd sighs, “but now I’m willing to sell it.”

”Hmm. Your moods can differ greatly,” Tord, Edd’s good friend, replies, getting out the money.

Edd glances at his painting and then to Tord’s outstretched hand. He takes the money and puts it in his pocket, watching as Tord looks over to the covered, protected painting with a cheerful expression.

”Lovely,” Tord smiles at Edd, shaking the painter’s hand.

When Tord pulls his hand away, Edd feels a string of himself caught in between Tord’s fingers, pulled away from him. But it’s too late to tie it back.

• • •

_“What an antique piece! Wonderful! I cannot believe I managed to get my hands on this first! So, do we have a deal?”_

Edd rubs the back of his neck as he finishes reading the text. It’s from a collector, who had seen Edd offering vintage art collections and painter’s tools online, and instantly offered a plentiful price for all of them.

Edd types back a positive reply, his finger hovering over ‘send.’

When he clicks the miserable button finally, his heart does an odd thump, unhappy.

• • •

“Hey, Edd.”

Edd ignores Tom as he closes the door behind him and walks downstairs to his studio.

He throws down his backpack and slumps on an old armchair, cupping his face in his palms.

”Edd?”

Tom knocks on the studio wall entrance gently, walking in.

”You okay?”

”I sold all of it,” Edd whispers and Tom blinks a few times in confusion.

”Sold what?”

”My new paints, my paintbrushes, my canvases...” Edd sniffles.

”What- wh- why?” Tom sits down on his knees in front of Edd, his face worried as he tries to understand.

”I-“ Edd is broken off by a sob, his shoulders shaking.

”Edd...” Tom stands up and wraps his arms around his best friend, “Calm down, just explain what happened.”

Edd puts his hands away from his face. His cheeks are red and so is the skin under his eyebrows. His eyes are watery and irritated.

“I sold all m-my new supplies outside, sold my favorite painting and sold my vintage collection, all of them...” Edd whispers, looking into the distance.

“Why did you do that?” Tom questions him and makes his voice gentle and understanding.

”I...” Edd stops, frowning to himself, “...I can’t tell you.”

Tom heaves a tired sigh, dropping his head and gaze down for a second and then lifting both again.

”Okay. I won’t force you,” he says as he gets up and heads for the exit.

Edd watches Tom leave, fighting the urge and want to call him back, to sit him down and explain everything. Every detail of why and what for he is doing what he is.

Edd waits, hopes, for Tom to turn around, to come back and to sit down next to him and hear the words flood from Edd’s tongue. 

Tom stops suddenly for a moment, almost as if he is about to return to Edd, but he doesn’t. Tom breathes sharply and continues to walk upstairs.

• • •

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this gets kind of confusing. 
> 
> My goal is to make the chapters curt and sort of BOOM! in your face.
> 
> They might not make sense, but everything ties together later on, trust me :)


	3. 《 TWO 》

* * *

• • •

Edd pokes miserably at the food on his plate, sighing. He scratches his fork on his plate and his teeth grit. He starts poking again.

”Edd,” Tom groans, “I really tried my best with that.”

Edd only half-hears Tom.

He picks up a piece of the well-prepared steak with his fork, and Tom’s face lights up, waiting for his friend to try it and praise him for his cooking skills.

But all Edd does is toss the piece of steak on the floor, watching as his cat, Ringo, runs over to it.

Tom’s head droops down to his plate, the light fading into nothing. 

Edd slowly gets up with a grunt and, without thanking Tom, goes towards the stairs.

Tom frowns and looks down on the floor, seeing Ringo licking its jaw, thankful that at least someone appreciates his hard work.

Edd walks upstairs, to his room. He rumages through and between his drawers until he finds the stack of money he had earned from selling his valuables earlier. 

Edd stares at it for a moment, almost as if waiting for the crumpled stack to speak, to say something, to stop him or to urge him on, but it stays silent, and Edd sighs.

He shoves it in his large pocket and runs downstairs, almost tripping.

Tom is washing the dishes. He turns off the tap and turns to Edd, who is making an awful racket in looking for something.

But when Tom asks his friend what he is trying to find, and if he requires any help, he gets a vague description of “this, um, little thing— put it here somewhere, argh,” and Tom doesn’t bother. He simply stands and watches Edd fuss from a distance.

Edd finally gets something out, a small white card, and when Tom walks forward to get a closer look, Edd grumbles something and hides it away. He pulls on his hat and coat, and without any words opens the front door and leaves.

Tom sighs, looking down at the dirty footprints Edd’s uncleaned shoes left, that led outside

• • •

Edd shivers and stretches his arms from the cold wind, taking out the small, now crumpled card and squinting at the address written on it.

He huffs, puts the card back in his pocket, and runs towards the closest bus stop.

• • •

Edd steps off the bus, staring straight towards a large windowed store.

It’s a cream white, decorated with baby pink stripes and the lovely, golden-rimmed windows. The wooden door is pink, chipped only slightly, an error that would surely soon be fixed. 

The cherry of the building is a large, circular sign with a pink flower on it, indicating what’s in store, literally.

Edd glances at the card in his freezing red hands for the last time and, breathing out sharply, he tosses the card in a patch of snow, feels the money in his pocket with his hand, and heads to the pink door.

• • •


	4. 《 THREE 》

• • •

Edd walks out of the store slowly, his feet barely lifting off the ground, the boots he has on dragging the dirtied snow with him. His expression is blank, but his mind is racing, his heart pounding.

Edd waits for the bus. When it finally comes, he looks back at the store and then to his right, searching for the little business card, but it’s not there. Edd blinks at the spot he had thrown it in and then makes his way to the bus.

• • •

Edd is lightheaded as he steps into his house, lazily pulling his boots and hat off and then leaning back against the closed front door.

He hears footsteps but doesn’t look up; he knows who it is.

”Where’ve you been?”

Tom’s voice is tired and wary.

Edd doesn’t answer. He smiles like an idiot and shakes his head, then frowns and then finally looks at Tom.

”I can’t tell if you’re high or drunk,” Tom says.

”I’m happy,” Edd whispers.

”That’s a synonym.”

”You don’t understand.”

Tom looks at Edd. His expession changes to confused, but he’s glad to see Edd in a less miserable state. Much less.

”Alright, then. Keep your secrets,” Tom smiles at him.

Edd starts walking towards the stairs.

Tom stops him.

”You’re really not ‘gonna tell me where you’ve been?”

Edd looks down with a calm expression on his face, and then looks up at Tom, one side of his mouth ever so slightly curled into a half-smile.

”I only have to wait ‘till spring.”

• • •

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about this chapter being really short, but its crucial to tie the previous and next one together, so I’m uploading them both today :)


	5. 《 FOUR 》

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was a fucking lie.
> 
> (Reffering to my last note.)

• • •

The sunrays blast their way through the window, creeping into the bedroom, from the floor to the walls.

The birds chirp their songs, hounds bark in the rich gardens, the flowers bloom and the bees buzz.

An enchanting day, the first of March.

The first day of Spring.

Matthew opens his eyes slowly and sighs with content as he turns to his side, stretching. He sits up and stretches once more. 

Instantly he smiles as he reminds himself that today he would be leaving the border for concerts.

Matt gets up and slowly makes his way to his balcony, to open it.

He opens the handles and steps in, breathing in the fresh Spring air.

Matt’s eyes blink away from the sun. He scans the clouds for shapes, examines the bird’s nests in the trees, the bushes, the... flowers?

Matthew blinks several times. Since when? 

His mouth curls into an ugly smile. Could it have been an admirer, a lover? He’d had many, but none had gone to this extent...

He rubs his eyes, checking if he’s not going insane.

He isn’t.

Where once were his plain hills, now stood hundreds, thousands, millions of vermillion roses.

Matthew looks around for the creator. What rich man could this be?

He looks down, below the very egde of his balcony.

Where stood a poor painter.

Matthew had then slammed the balcony door shut.

• • •

”Watch your step, sir.”

Matthew ignores the warning and barges into the entrance of the train.

He sits, staring outside the blurry window, crestfallen.

He had wanted to see his gardens, his beauty and richness through the windows, and then the nature of the country during his trip.

But all he saw through the window was a red smudge.

• • •


	6. 《 FIVE 》

• • •

Edd had from then on lived his life in misery. 

He was shattered, as were his dreams. Broken and cracking from all sides, and nothing could help him, not even Tom.

Tom had done all his best. He’d flipped his skin inside out for Edd, desperately running behind the hopeless artist like a small dog on a leash. 

Often Edd would sit at his table for hours, with his pencil in his fingers, floating, doing nothing. He would then stand up and leave somewhere, anywhere. Tom didn’t bother asking.

Often Tom would stand behind Edd, wrap his arms around Edd’s neck and sob into it. Edd didn’t bother protesting.

Often they would sit at the table, silently eating. Nothing would be heard except the scraping of cutlery against plates. Neither of them bothered interacting.

Tom was in agony.

Edd was empty.

• • •

They were poor. Their small house was sold and an even smaller apartment was bought.

The apartment was grey and dirty. It smelled stale and dusty.

• • •

Tom would sit on the sofa in front of the television, realizing how he had wasted half his life. His life, his tattered life that he had given to someone that no longer required it. Someone who his life depended on. What a fool he was.

Tom would wonder why he had allowed this to happen. How could he have let his life degrade completely, because of one rejection to his friend?

Tom knew the answer, and he hated it.

• • •


End file.
